WPA
by alfredosbreath
Summary: The big war is over and, of course, the good side won. Leaving Sam and Dean Winchester back where they started but a whole new set of issues, set in a world where their secret life is not as secret…


TITLE: W.P.A.

RATING: PG

WARNING(S): mockery of humanity, mockery of Supernatural, unnecessary sympathy for the Wendigo species(?)

SUMMARY: The big war is over and, of course, the good side won. Leaving Sam and Dean Winchester back where they started but a whole new set of issues, set in a world where their secret life is not as secret… Enter W.P.A. (the Wendigo Preservation Association).

Ever since the world had almost ended things had been different. Kind of to be expected, one might suppose, but at the same time there were aspects to this change that were slightly unexpected. Such as the polarization of the world's population regarding their belief (or lack thereof) in the grand unknown, a higher power, ghosts…anything removed from so called "normal, everyday life". Basically, after seeing all that impending hell had to throw at them, people either really did not believe or really did.

And from there, separate factions grew.

The whole mess was something that Dean and Sam had to familiarize themselves with quickly, being hunters and having to deal with all the loonies they could possibly dream of. But this situation was a new one, and it had Dean fondly looking back on the days where all he'd been asked to do was assassinate Lucifer and put up with arrogant pricks of angels.

"Yes. The Wendigo Preservation Association. We believe that as living creatures, Wendigos have as much a right to exist as, say, platypuses and buffalo," a very earnest young woman told Dean as she knocked back a shot of tequila.

Sam had an unparalleled expression of bewilderment on his face, which left Dean on his own to reply, "Say what?"

The girl smiled gently, hazel eyes glittering with barely suppressed affection for Wendigo kind, "I know that this seems a little extreme. I mean, with all the horrible things that have happened in connection to Wendigos over the years. But isn't it truly reasonable to suggest that if left to their own contained devices, perhaps inside a Wendigo sanctuary, then humans and Wendigos could coexist peacefully?"

"Reason- No, it is not reasonable! Do you know what those things are capable of? Lady, they could kill you and your family without even a flinch in their oh-so-peaceful, deserving of life hearts!" Dean said, sneering at her (politely) and smashing a couple peanuts open with his fist (_politely_). Glancing to his brother Dean had a whole new reason to feel slightly frustrated—the kid was starting to look sympathetic.

"Sam, no!" Dean said sharply, "This is completely insane. All these rogue monster loving associations we keep running into and you choose the Wendigos to get all mushy over?"

Sending Dean an annoyed glare Sam turned to the girl, puppy dog eyes prepared and heart on his sleeve, "What can we do to help?"

This is the last fucking time they ever try to have a nice, normal vacation, Dean thinks to himself, even after the apocalypse.

666666666

It really did all begin after the apocalypse ended. Dean and Sam together, as usual, said their farewell to Castiel as the angel floated off home with the promise of an **eventual **visit (apparently traveling through planes of existence isn't as easy as just time and space). And then they were left to help the world get back to normal, which should have easy considering the bulk of it was relatively intact.

No such luck. You see, people are totally, unequivocally insane; the Winchester brothers had just made the mistake of momentarily misplacing this knowledge. And unfortunately this insanity compels our species to continuously engage in some of the stupidest courses of action possibly…for example protecting things that try to eat us, things that are in short kind of evil.

But with their misguided peace of mind Sam and Dean had decided a short vacation was over, a "post-apocalyptic honeymoon" after a marriage to the earth and the salvation of its wonderful creatures sort of thing, as Dean put it. Sam, being a man of common sense, had pointed out that made very little sense.

Dean had just smirked and said Sam needed to get laid more. Still.

And so they'd started out with the Grand Canyon, snaked down and around the southwest and northwest, stopping at all the crappy tourist attractions they could find. But as they'd traveled they'd been noticing a startling trend that seemed to be growing and strengthening more quickly than Sammy powers on Ruby blood.

First it had been the Werewolf and Werecat Friends, who had been both strong in their stance and in their unflinchingly incorrect certainty that werecats actually existed. Then the Bonds of Love to Other worldly Demons, which Sam and Dean had agreed was just…the worst of all. Countless more, most of them Dean had refused to record so Sam was left chronicling every sad encounter the brothers made with these groups.

Each time Dean had watched Sam's resolve buckle a little bit more. With every institution, every association, Sam weakened in the face of undiluted sympathy and love for God's creatures (as Gnomes and Other Darlings had described).

And the moment had come, Dean realized, sitting in a little bar with an unfortunately attractive crazy lady and his brother. Now it was up to Dean to spread a little bit more intolerance in the world, and a little less hey-let's-get-eaten.


End file.
